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Friday, August 30, 2013

I cannot wait,
friends—simply cannot wait. In just a few short days, football season will be
upon us. The opening kick will soar through the air, and all of the heartbreak,
triumph, and the I-can’t-believe-what-I-just-saw brand of craziness will be in
full force. Of course, if you fancy yourself a fantasy owner, your football
experience will always be two-fold—a touchdown that might damn your team into
the gloomy dregs of the division might also be the saving grace for your
digital team of all-stars. There are people who love it, people who hate it,
and there are always the people who just do not understand it. But you know
what? Who cares? You have a shot at a full year of bragging rights amongst your
peers, and that is totally worth alienating roughly fifty-percent of your
friends and family! Right? Right!

Fantasy football is
a heck of a lot of fun, but the thing is, it has the potential to be so much
more. The stakes can always be raised. The gambles can always be bigger. The
rewards, the sweet sweet rewards, can always be more bountiful. The Dazz staff
has come up with some tweaks in the system—tweaks that really put the fantasy, and the fun, into fantasy
football.

1.Lottery Mode

While most fantasy
leagues utilize the traditional “Snake-style” function (where you make your
picks in a randomized, pre-determined order), the truth is that auction-drafts
are infinitely better. In auction drafts, each owner is allotted $200, and over
the course of the draft they bid portions of this money on any player they
want. The better the player, the more you usually have to pay for him. Pretty
basic.

But
what if . . .

. . . there was a
way to spend a fraction of that cost, take a huge risk, and possibly guarantee yourself a championship if it
pays off? Introducing lottery mode! What if, at any point in an auction draft,
an owner could spend $5 out of their remaining funds to take a shot at “winning
the lottery.” There would be a one-percent chance of winning, but if luck
serves you well and you hit the jackpot, you have automatic rights to any three
players left on the board, totally free of charge.

Consider that in
auction drafts, the first ten players or so are usually bought for an average
of $55-$60. With fifteen more players to buy to fill a standard roster, that is
pretty crippling to spend. But, if
you spend five bucks right off the bat and have a stroke of luck, you could
suddenly find yourself sitting on Adrian Peterson, Aaron Rodgers, and Marshawn Lynch for easy chump
change. You just saved yourself $175 and you have arguably the three best
fantasy players on your team! Sure, it is a long shot, but you would at least
consider rolling the dice once or twice, right? It adds a whole new layer of
strategy to the draft—everyone would try goading each other into potentially
wasting their money, and especially cruel leagues would see nine guys all
ganging up on one to try and have him blow $100 on lottery tickets.
Hilarious—but even more so if that poor slob ends up winning.

2. Buying Insurance

You know what
sucks? When your first-round pick in the fantasy draft blows out his knee in
the first game of the season and sinks your whole team (cut to everyone who
drafted Tom Brady in 2008 quietly weeping). That really sucks. A fantasy team
without that pick is horribly crippled, and almost a surefire lock to miss the
playoffs.

But
what if . . .

. . . you never had
to worry about that, because you bought insurance? Here is how it would work:
say you drafted Robert Griffin III this year, and you were worried his leg
would break in half again—for a little extra money in the auction drafts, or
for the sacrifice of a later pick in snake drafts, you could insure RGIII
against all injuries. So, if RGIII missed any playing time, you would not miss
the points.
It could work like this: say you
drafted RGIII in a free snake-draft league. You could have the option to keep
him as-is, or, you could bundle him with an insurance policy at the price of
your 14th-round pick. If RGIII is hurt during the first eight games
of the season under your insurance, his point average from last season is
automatically plugged into your weekly scores (if you choose to start him). In
his case, you would have the security of 19 points a game—pretty good. If he is
hurt during the latter eight games of the season, you take his average from the
current season and add that into your total.

You would be able
to insure as many players as you wanted, but it would always come at the cost
of late-round picks, bidding money, or minor add-ins to the pot in prize
leagues. Of course, these always come at the risk of a player not suffering an
injury, and then you would have wasted your money, pick, etc. Again, it adds
another layer to the high-risk/high-reward factor that fantasy is all about.
You could look brilliant when it is over, or you could look paranoid and, well,
stupid.

3. Money in the Bank

Right now, the
third-place game at the end of the fantasy season is pretty worthless. There
are no bragging rights that come with achieving third-place, and since it
already is the by-product of two first-round playoff losers, there is little to
feel good about to begin with.

But
what if . . .

. . . we went all
WWE up in our fantasy leagues?! For the uneducated, Money in the Bank is an
annual match put on by the world of wrestling. The match features a ton of WWE
stars, and the winner of the all-out brawl earns a silver briefcase with a
contract inside. This contract gives them the sole rights to challenge the
current reigning champion anywhere and
anytime. If they win, they take the belt. It is one of the best things the
WWE has produced in years—makes for great drama—and it is a perfect fit for
fantasy football.

Take that
third-place game and turn it into a Money in the Bank showdown. Now, the winner
of this once-meaningless affair earns the rights to challenge a fantasy champion
anywhere and anytime during the
following season for the rights to the title.

The most likely
scenario is, of course, using the contract right after someone wins the title
(you just could not do it in the same season you won Money in the Bank—that is
dumb, and defeats the purpose). Say you won Money in the Bank a year earlier,
but you ran into some bad luck this season and finished ninth out of ten teams.
Never fear, because you pull your contract after Week 17 and challenge the new
champ to a winner-take-all playoff! Both owners would draft three new players
(a QB, a back, and a wideout) set to play in the first round of the playoffs.
After the games, the fantasy points earned by those six players are tallied,
and the champ either keeps the crown or is forced to hand it off to you, Mr.
Started-from-the-bottom-now-we’re-here! Wow! This wrinkle would add a ton of
drama, and it would be a hell of a lot of fun to watch a feisty underdog claw
his way back to a title.

4. NBA Jam Rules

There is a lot of
WTF-ey stuff in fantasy, and most of it comes from stuff like, “How the hell
can Julio Jones have two touchdowns one week, and then none the next with only
thirty effing yards?!” The unpredictable hills and valleys suck, and they give
owners absolute fits. If a player is hot, how come they can never stay hot?

But
what if . . .

. . . they could? Remember
the good old days of video arcades, when a young Suns fan could rain jumpers
with Charles Barkley, watch him catch on fire, and then just throw him the
alley-oop with Jason Kidd every time you came down the court? I sure do. Man,
the days of playing NBA Jam were insanely fun, and adopting some of its ways
could give fantasy a huge boost of entertainment.

Obviously, you
would start with having a player “catch on fire.” In the arcade version of NBA
jam, if one player made three shots in a row, they would literally burst into
flame and become faster, more accurate, and completely dominant. Let’s light
some football players on fire too! Now, having three insane weeks of football
in a row is really tough, so what if we made it a little easier by establishing
three-week benchmarks for each position? Quarterbacks would have to earn a
total of 70 fantasy points, running backs would have to earn 35 points, receivers
need 35 as well, etc. Once a player catches fire, their point total for the
ensuing week sees a 50% boost, no matter what. Players would be able to stay on
fire if they keep doing well (using single-game benchmarks—say, 20 points for
QBs, 14 for RBs, and 11 for WRs), and the point bonus would carry over.

Oh, and in case you
were wondering, if Adrian Peterson had used NBA Jam Rules last season, he would
have been on fire for four straight
weeks, from weeks 8 to 12 (11 was his bye). Wow.

5. Zombie Mode

More often than not
in fantasy, things just do not pan out. It has happened to all of us: sleepers
never wake up, early picks have down years, stars suffer season-ending
injuries—it comes with being an owner. When you have a bad year in fantasy
football, it might not always be because you had poor draft strategy or you did
not prepare well enough. It might just be pure dumb luck kicking you in the
butt again.

But
what if . . .

. . . you could
make your own luck? Zombie Mode is here, friends.

Here is how it would
work: after any of their draft picks, an owner could immediately choose to
zombify one, and just one, of their
players. When a player is zombified, they literally become the player they were
at any earlier point in their careers—which point is up to the owner.

An example will
explain this best: say you draft Tom Brady in the third round this year. His
receivers are gone, he is growing older, and you are worried he might not be
the same quarterback he was in the past, so you decide to zombify him. Being a
savvy NFL historian, you know that Tom Brady had one of the best statistical
seasons ever in 2007, when he threw
for over 4,800 yards and 50 touchdowns. You decide to create Zombie-2007-Brady.
All of his stats carry over week to week, so when you start Zombie-2007-Brady
on Week 1 for this year’s league, he would earn your team 23 points, because in
Week 1 of the 2007 season, Brady threw for 297 yards and three scores against
the Jets. Pretty sweet deal, right?

It comes with some
strings attached, naturally. First off, you can only zombify one player each
year—more and it is just a little too ridiculous. Second of all, when you
zombify a player in a draft, you forfeit your pick for the next round (maybe
you can just take a kicker, or in auction leagues you forfeit $10 or
something). You also must start the zombie every single week, even on their bye week. It is harsh, but
it is only fair when you have an all-time great on your roster.

Another wrinkle: if
your opponent for the week has a player in the same position who ends up
earning a higher total than the zombie, the zombie is unplayable for one week
following (debated calling this being “shot in the head”). Suddenly,
Zombie-2007-Brady has a problem. Smart owners would see that in Week 15 of his
2007 season, Tom Brady threw for only 140 yards, no touchdowns, and even had an
interception. That is only three little points—incredibly easy to beat.
Suddenly, Zombie-2007-Brady is inactive for Week 16’s game. He stays a starter,
but his points are negated, so the roster spot is wasted on his team. Being the
first week of the championship game, it might not be worth it to zombify Brady
after all.

A few things I
personally love about this rule: it rewards research and preparation, and
emphasizes strong finishes over strong starts—crucial in fantasy. It also has
fantastic high-risk/high-reward flexibility. Do you play it safe and zombify
Adrian Peterson this year, and ensure that he repeats last year’s heroics? You
could, but if he is somehow even better this season, you wasted your zombify
ability and that second-round pick
you forfeited. On the other hand, if a player is hurt, it becomes irrelevant if
they are a zombie. If you zombify them to a season when they played all 16
games, then they are guaranteed to play all 16 of those games for you.

Finally, the
sneak-factor of Zombie Mode is off the charts. Consider that LaDainian
Tomlinson is in this year’s draft. Of course, he is all but irrelevant right
now, but if you nab with your last pick and zombify him to
Zombie-2006-Tomlinson, you do not have to relinquish any draft picks, and you
just stole a player who is going to score 31 touchdowns and gain 2,300 yards
from scrimmage for the season—in your third running back spot to boot, which
would make the chances of him being shot in the head and unplayable for a week
rather slim. Careful researchers would be able to find these players every
year, and it totally redefines how you think of sleepers. Zombie Mode adds a
whole other layer to fantasy football—it keeps the draft interesting in the
later rounds, it produces some insane matchup potential (imagine
Zombie-2007-Brady and Zombie-2004-Peyton Manning going ape on each other to try
and survive the next week!), and it adds brand new depth to the degrees of
strategy involved. It relies less on luck and more on perception. It brings
fantasy back to its roots, and more importantly, it makes things way more
interesting, way more entertaining, and most of all, way more fun.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

In a summer laced
with unnecessary nudity, cheap shock-humor, and mega-flop blockbusters, The World’s End stands alone. It
delivers a tight, thrilling, and absolutely hilarious movie-going experience. It
is a knock-out ending to the terrific Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy, and it
is absolutely the best movie of the summer.

Like Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz before it, The World’s End combines rough action with brilliant comedy—this time,
telling the story of a group of buddies who attempt to finish a legendary pub
crawl in the midst of an alien invasion. Simon Pegg plays the inflated and
conceited Gary King, the self-proclaimed leader of the gang, while Three
Flavours-compatriot Nick Frost plays his (initially) straight-laced childhood
friend. Martin Freeman, Pierce Brosnan, and the ever-present Bill Nighy round
out a terrific cast, and while it would seem that The World’s End is primed to fall for the usual film clichés that
we see in the old-guys-relive-the-glory-days stories, it does anything but that.
Too old for this sh**? Not here. The movie does not even take a sniff in that
direction—incredibly refreshing.

This is perhaps
most indicative in the fact that The
World’s End approaches its action irreverently and intelligently—these sequences
are truly fun to watch, and some of the finishing moves that the gang pulls on
their adversaries are badass, insane, and just damn cool. Ever see an alien
split in half over a urinal or become the victim of a Nick Frost pile-driver? I
sure have, and I loved every freaking second of it.

Of course, the
reason any of us will venture out to see this flick is for the laughs, and wow,
does the film deliver. Instead of relying on trite sight-gags or forgettable
crass humor, the writing here takes a smart, genuine approach. The comedy here
is pure, consistent, and versatile; a laugh can come from dialogue just as
easily as it can come from the goofy mannerisms and actions of the characters
(and never fear, trilogy fans, the old fence gag is back!). Snappy lines and witty
exchanges run aplenty, and in a year full of less-than-stellar efforts, it is
brilliant to see such excellent writing coming from people who are just so
intrinsically funny. Forget funniest comedy of the summer—it might be the
funniest movie of the year.

The plethora of
laughs is primarily supplied by our two leads, and Simon Pegg and Nick Frost
assert themselves in this flick as one of the best comedy duos of our time.
Their chemistry is terrific—a result of them being real-life friends—and when
the movie takes its emotional turns, they play the buddy-buddy scenes so well
that it is perfectly impossible not to cheer for them. They are the absolute
stars of their own show, and director Wright more than gives them their due.
These guys have given us three terrific movies (and Paul, but come on, for the sake of the moment, I think we can all
just brush that one aside), and seeing them go out on such a high note is going
to really satisfy fans.

If there is
anything negative to say about this flick, it is that the final act might be a
tad up-and-down in balancing its emotion and comedy, but not to worry, because
the “low points” only feel as such because the highs are just so darn good.
Indeed, the climax of The World’s End
might deliver the single best comedy scene since the infamous tuna exchange
from The Other Guys. I still laugh
when I think about this one—inspired comedy at its finest.

The World’s End simply does not mess
around. It is here to bring fun action and big laughs, and it delivers both in
droves. The emotional scenes are tight and to-the-point, without a bunch of
oversaturated dialogue or cornball direction. More than anything, though, this
film is a triumph for Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, who not only give the audience
another satisfying and grounded buddy-flick, but cement themselves as one of
the greatest comedy duos of the modern age.

It is useless
arguing—The World’s End kicks a lot
of ass, takes a lot of names, and is terrifically charming and funny. The
conclusion of the Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy might just be the best of the
three. It earns a 9 out of 10, and stands as the greatest movie of the summer.
Go and see it—it deserves your attention.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Perhaps Dre said it
best when he blamed it on Ice Cube: “Because he says it gets funky/When you got
a subject and a predicate./Add it on a dope beat/and that’ll make you think.”
As any self-respecting DJ will tell
you, Dre knows that the key to any great hip-hop or rap song is that killer
groove behind the rhymes—you know, the steady line that makes you put your
hands up or bob your head or just downright get funky with it. My father (who,
by the way, loathes this kind of
music, and therefore knows nothing about this article) lovingly calls this
phenomenon “the kathunka kathunka.”

Over the years,
hip-hop and rap has solidified itself as a music mainstay, and many modern
artists, such as Eminem, Nas, and Tupac Shakur, have already earned their way
into several “Greatest Artists of All Time” lists, largely for their lyrical
prowess. But today, we want to show some respect for guys like Dre, and we want
to highlight some beats that just refuse to grow old. These are the beats that
survive on their own, without the words. These are the beats that demand to be
mixed and mashed and emulated and honored. These are the beats that made people
stars. These are the Beats That Never Die.

It Was a Good Day, Ice Cube

You hear that? That is music, friends!
Something really terrific about old-school rap is the pure emphasis on laying
the spoken word over actual music, and not just a pulsing bass line. A great
example is “Good Day”. So relaxed, so
mellow, and completely worthy of a windows-down drive through areas of town
where you will not be shot. The feel is almost jazzy, and if you play an
instrument, you might just hear some improvisation opportunities sprinkled
throughout this one. This one is beyond just a solid beat, it functions as a
totally liable song, sans-Cube. And the best part? He still does not have to
use his AK.

Dirt Off Your Shoulder, Jay-Z

I know we just
lauded the use of “real” instruments, but electronic beats certainly have their
place too, not the least of which is evidenced by Timbaland’s absolutely dirty throw-down with Shawn
Carter here. Remember when we talked about beats that just make you move?
Coming right up. Put on some headphones and crank this one—to say that
Timbaland brings the bass is absolute sacrilege. He crushes that bass line. It charges your ears in one of the nastiest
aural assaults of modern rap. It just plain kills.

In da Club, 50 Cent

Let’s keep it
current for a second. More and more nowadays, songs are relying on simple
series of notes to create something catchy—think along the lines of Tyga’s
three-tone “Rack City” or MGMT’s nine-note keyboard line on “Kids”—people
remember simple stuff; easy to hum, easy to whistle—this stuff is why things
are stuck in your head. 50’s “In da Club” totally nails this phenomenon. With
three little bum-Bum accents, we have
one of the most versatile party beats of the last decade. It does not matter if
you have never been up in da club, rolling 20 deep, or mistaken for a player or
pimp, when this song comes on, it stays on. And when people like P. Diddy, Lil
Wayne, and (wait for it!) freaking Beyonce are borrowing the tune to lay over their own lyrics, you know you
have a good thing here.

No Sleep Till Brooklyn, Beastie Boys

Did anyone combine
rock and rap more effectively than these guys? The debate is there, and this
song’s timeless riff embodies the duality of the entire group. A rap song with a guitar solo?
Madness—but it is mad genius too. What makes this instrumental absolutely
legendary is its universal appeal: rock fans can do guitar covers, drum covers,
etc., and rap fans can lay down their own rhymes. The modern fan might point to
Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” as a terrific use of electric guitar within a rap
song, but this song did it more than fifteen year earlier, and the style is so
much more in-your-face, outrageous, and badass that this simply demands the
nod. When you hear this riff, you know it is Beastie Boys, and you know it is
good.

California Love, 2pac

Is a defense even
necessary? This is still a dance floor staple, it features a perfect blend of
live instruments with electronic sounds, you recognize it as soon as you hear
it, and it is the pure epitome of a head-bobbing, hands-up jam. Oh, and the
video was shot in the Thunderdome from Mad
Max. California does indeed know
how to party. Thank you and please drive through.

This tune featured
a lot of big names, from the Doctor himself to Snoop Doggy Dogg (as he was then
called—and don’t even tell me you hate Snoop Lion! It’s still Snoop, he’s
always going to be the D. O. Double-G, so quit your moaning—you’d still totally
chill with him—let the dude evolve!) to Nate Dogg to some guy named Kurupt
(who, after a quick Google search, I found has been nominated for a Grammy, in
1996, for a song he did with someone named Daz—whaddup). What makes this beat
really classic is, aside from its catchy simplicity and dance-ability, it
somehow manages to fit the style of all of the artists involved with the song.
It sounds like a Dre beat, it sounds like something either Dogg would jam with,
and I am sure that all 19 of the die-hard Kurupt fans out there would agree
that it works for him too. We have thrown around the word “versatility” a lot
in this piece, but this beat is just another example. Dre—whataguy.

Ni**as in Paris, Jay-Z and Kanye West

Oh, shut up. Even
the most modern of rap music can churn out killer beats like this, and do not
tell me that you never busted one out on the dance floor trying to ball so hard
and all that other fun I-have-trouble-relating-to-this-song-in-real-life-because-really-why-is-Kanye-talking-about-fish-filets
stuff. This beat is dope, and it is the reason that we have been the audience
to about fifty-million remixes and mash-ups in the past year and a half. You
know the song as soon as you hear those first two notes, and even when Kanye
reminds us yet again that, seriously guys, we better not let him into his zone,
the bass is cranked and you still think it is damn cool. This was the beat of 2011, and we are going to
keep hearing it for a long time to come. Instant classic.

C.R.E.A.M., Wu Tang Clan

A moment of
humbling honesty here: this song was a last-minute addition—it overtook Lloyd
Banks’ “Beamer, Benz, or Bentley” (I know, I know) and Lil Wayne’s “Six Foot
Seven Foot”—and I will tell you why. Both of those songs have great beats, but
they are straight-up repetitive. “Ni**as in Paris” up there is successful
largely because of its continued breakdowns and switch-ups—it is easy to listen
all the way through without stopping. Not so with Banks or Wayne’s tunes. It is
the same line over and over, and while “C.R.E.A.M.” has moments of repetition,
the groove itself brings enough components to keep things fresh, even while the notes stay the same. They
add vocals, accents, oohs and ahhs. It creates a massively-effective song that
can be a mellow, sit-back-and-bob-your-head tune for one listen, and then a
dance tune for another listen. Wu Tang Clan brought us something completely
original and inventive—a timeless tune, that works at any time.

Paper Planes, M.I.A.

You have to end
with a crowd-pleaser. Done over and over again, “Paper Planes” is one of those
songs that somehow everyone just seems to know. It runs amuck through popular
culture even today, and you see it everywhere from movies to parties to radio
to ice cream shop background-music. It simply has not gone away, and thanks to
some of the best use of sound effects in rap history (those gun-shots with the
cash register—genius—to make them such an integral part of the song was bold as
hell, and now you have one of the most recognizable sequences in the last
decade of music), it just might stick around a while longer. Sure, the main
riff might have borrowed from The Clash, but is that really a bad thing? The
spin it received was great enough in its own right. We will remember this tune
as a staple in the world of hip-hop and rap.

Have a song you feel should have been on
the list? We want to hear about it—let us know via Twitter or Facebook! Special
thanks goes out to reader and friend Jordan Costello for his much-needed
insight and opinion into the world of hip-hop and rap; you were a great help,
friend!

Saturday, August 10, 2013

For the past five
years, Vince Gilligan and Co. have blessed us with what is undoubtedly the
greatest running program on television, and in just eight weeks—eight short,
fleeting, hell-ridden weeks—the final fade-out will conclude the epic descent
of Walter White. There are a thousand questions surrounding the details of what
is to come, but the one question for you, right now, is this:

Are you effing ready for this?!

You better be
(bitch!).

Few shows are about
The End. More often than not, a television series will hit the prime of its
writing somewhere around the third season. This is when Mad Men hit another level, when The
Office churned out the most laughs, when Lost became more WTF-ey than it ever was, andwhen The Wire went from
just something different to the biggest trend-bucker of modern media. After the
peak though, comes an almost inevitable decline. The Office, and most other sitcoms, grew considerably less funny. Lost hiccupped and became oversaturated
with questions. Even The Wire is
considered to miss a step in its final season. When this happens, The End is
almost never as satisfying as fans want it to be. Lost and The Sopranos in
particular are notorious for their less-than-stellar endings (although, I have
to defend Lost for a second here and
just ask any fan this, “If you hated the ending, then how would you have ended it?” Seriously, there was
no other way. I loved the ending. Screw you. God.), and it turned a lot of “great
show” talks into “yeah, but” talks.

Breaking Bad, however, is in a brilliant
position, because this show has always been about the ending. We knew that we
were going out with Walter from day one, and wow has it been an insane ride to
the finish (almost like a . . . dead freight! Hey-oh! Sorry. I
challenged myself to see how many little references I could plug in here).
Whether you were with Heisenberg from the beginning on AMC, or caught up on
Netflix, it does not matter, because everything in Breaking Bad has been guiding us to this glorious conclusion. We watched this entire series just for this.
There has never been anything like it.

This show is
unique, too, in that the atmosphere surrounding these final eight hours is not
only full of hype, but it is seriously confident.
No one expects them to flop, and this another by-product of the writer’s entire
countdown to Walter’s death. If this has been what they have been working
toward all along, and all the filler stuff in the middle was of such amazing
quality, can you imagine how freaking awesome the home-stretch is going to be?!
It is unheard of!

Sure, stuff has
changed along the way (fun fact: Jesse was supposed to die in the first season,
but after he emerged as a fan-favorite, the writers kept him in), but adapting
the end goal is considerably better than drumming it up from scratch. This is
why fans of Lost were sweating and fans
of The Office had their fingers
crossed and their eyes shut tight. Only here, in the world of us meth-heads (AMC
calls us “Breaking Baddicts”, but that is a horribly lame pun and much too
long, so suck it AMC, we are meth-heads, like we were supposed to be all
along), is everyone just flat-out pumped. Wecannot wait. We are fully prepared
for The End of this show to blow us away.

No matter what
happens, you can guarantee that not everyone is going to see it coming. The further
beauty of this set-up is emphasized by the insane number of theories being
tossed around by fans. Will Walt just die of cancer, in a hospital with his
family around him? Will he be shot and killed by Jesse? By Hank? Hell, even
suicide is not totally out of the question—he tried that in the first goddamn
episode! Literally anything can happen, because if this series has taught us
anything, it is that these writers will shy from nothing, and that these
characters are capable of some dark, dark things (I have to throw out my
opinion here and present my theory—Walt, whether by accident or on purpose,
will contribute to the death of Jesse, and this will be his final what-have-I-done
moment. As he atones for everything, the cancer takes him . . . yeesh, I have
chills, can we just go to Sunday now?).

We left Walter
White while he was simultaneously at his most sinister and his most vulnerable.
The showdown we have expected all along is here. The revelations, long hidden,
are going to come out and rear their ugly, twisted heads. Friends will become
enemies. Empires will fall. People will die.

Soak it all in.
This is it. Breaking Bad is coming
down to its glorious, disturbing, I-can’t-believe-what-I-just-saw ending, and
you can bet that the rest of the meth-heads and I are going to be right there
with our heroes, antiheroes, and hated psycho-wives until the very last second.
Buckle the hell up, everyone, because the one who knocks is banging on the
door.

This summer, we have yet to see
the movie. That is, the killer app that
alluringly drags us to theaters, slams us into chairs, and blows us away whether
we were ready for it or not. Elysium was
poised to be that flick—the director and writer of the best sci-fi movie of the
past five years brought aboard our main man Matt Damon for another original
on-screen story. Sign me the hell up for that.

Did it pan out,
though? Not quite—you have a solid sci-fi here, but not something that captures
the same magic that District 9 did in
2009.

The premise here
certainly brings the intrigue, even if it paints on some similar class-warfare
tones that D9 presented. Matt Damon
plays Max, a convicted felon out on parole in a dense, over-populated Los
Angeles in the 2100s. Above the planet-wide slum that is this new Earth hovers
the alluring Elysium, a massive space station where the planet’s elite have
taken refuge from the squalor. Elysium has a cure for cancer, lush greenery,
and many a garden party. Naturally, people on Earth regularly try to break onto
the utopian station—too bad they are all shot on arrival. Yeah, things kind of
suck in Matt Damon’s neighborhood, but after a deadly dose of radiation and the
addition of a sweet-ass exo-suit, he looks to make his way up the orbiting
paradise, and (surprise surprise!) maybe save Earth in the process.
Easily the standout of Elysium is the action. Director Neil
Blomkamp’s track record of sweet weapons and videogame-esque set pieces is only
extended here, and some of the best scenes revolve around the featured
exo-suits for both Matt Damon and one of his future nemeses (no spoilers here,
sucka). All the futuristic tech is flat-out sick to see in action, whether it’s
the tracer rounds that attract mobile explosives, bullets that explode within a
five-meter radius of the target, or the criminally-underused ChemRail. It is
enough to make you wish Elysium was a
videogame, which may or may not be a good thing.

See, the movie’s
biggest issue is that, while it sets the stage for the examination of some
pretty mature themes, it never quite achieves the depth that we know Blomkamp
can achieve. Characters feel under-written, the relationship-developments are a
tad cliché, and while Jodie Foster initially presents an intriguing villain as
the ruthless, cutthroat Secretary of Defense on Elysium, but (trying hard not
to spoil anything here) the script eventually throws her the finger in favor of
more traditional science-fiction fare. It was a jarring, disappointing turn for
a flick that, despite some holes here and there, at least had the integrity of
trying something original. It makes even less sense in retrospect than it did
while we were watching.

The cast in itself
does a decent job with what they are given, but the truth is they just are not
given much to work with. I would hesitate to call it a waste of talent (harsh
much?), but with Damon, Foster, and the surprisingly-versatile Sharlto Copley
(he was the lead in D9), it is hard
not to wonder why this movie was not able to attain more emotional depth.

That, ultimately,
is Elysium’s undoing—while everything
on the surface looks great, from the terrific cast to the spectacular sci-fi
imagery to the acutely-detailed world, beyond the surface there just is not
much. Even the parable-like themes are not explored as much as they should be,
and are indeed lost in the shuffle along the way. Many times we come this close to having a great scene or a
great moment, but the movie never quite seals the envelope. We never have the moment. It is too bad.

Comparisons to District 9 might seem unfair at first,
but when the writer, director, actor, and
underlying theme are all the same, it invites the question why Elysium cannot quite do what its
predecessor positively triumphed at—bringing the emotion. The segregated world
of Elysium is well-realized and really interesting, but thanks to some
hard-to-ignore plot holes, a lack of emotional punch, and the underwritten
characters, the movie never truly satisfies. The seamless visuals and balls-out
action will make you glad you saw it, but once you leave the theater there just
is not much to remember. There is more to talk about what could have or should
have been here than what actually is. It is an acceptable sci-fi, but it is not
the movie this summer.